


Playing to Win

by Azrael



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), AU, Blow Jobs, First Time, Johnlock Roulette, M/M, Sequel to someone Else's fic, Sexting, Trivia Crack, fantasies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-12
Updated: 2015-03-12
Packaged: 2018-03-17 12:38:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3529757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azrael/pseuds/Azrael
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock has a new addiction.  Well...two new addictions.  And they go *ahem* hand in hand.</p>
<p>Sequel to "The Pauli Exclusion Principle" by bobbirose, written with her permission.  It wasn't hard to get :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Playing to Win

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bobbirose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bobbirose/gifts).
  * Inspired by [The Pauli Exclusion Principle](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3525677) by [bobbirose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bobbirose/pseuds/bobbirose). 



> So bobbirose wrote a sweet little alternate first meeting fic called "The Pauli Exclusion Principle" (go check it out, it's adorable) and I loved it so very much that of course my brain went "and how can we dirty this the hell up?". That's because I'm a bad person. Your welcome.

3 a.m.

It was 3 a.m. in the bloody morning and what was Sherlock Holmes doing?

Was he working on the latest revision of his dissertation?

No.

Was he closely monitoring the potentially volatile experiment involving magnesium currently bubbling away in his kitchen?

No.

Was he addressing the, really quite dire, state of his finances in the form of the stack of unpaid bills knifed into his coffee table in an effort to not forget they existed?

Oh, hell no.

No, no he was not doing any of those things. What he was doing was much stupider and brain meltingly frustrating than wrestling with an excel spreadsheet. For the last fourteen hours and change he had been doing something so idiotic he could actually feel his brain stem crying out in horror as his neurons flickered and died and his self respect completely abandoned ship.

Trivia Crack.

It was such a trite little time waster, but addictive, so very, very addictive, and there were other benefits.

Well, one other benefit, but it was really quite a shiny prize.

His new friend John Watson.

John, who had simply plopped down in the seat next to Sherlock on the bus, startling the hell out him he might add, and proceeded to rope him into the sordid world of application gaming while smiling with his straight white teeth and seeing Sherlock with his lovely, bright eyes and then flirting. He had called Sherlock gorgeous, had taken Sherlock’s business card, and then proceeded to text constantly for the rest of the day and well into the night.

John who was nice, and insanely good looking, and not a total idiot even if he didn’t know shit about chemistry, and had made a ratty jumper and jeans look sexy and pettable and oh dear lord, but Sherlock was losing his damn mind.

He currently had 24 Trivia Crack games going with people all over the world in an effort to familiarize himself with what was clearly an obsession for John. He had been glued to his phone all day, was sitting on his bed tethered to the wall by the charging cord plugged into his phone which was in turn surgically attached to his hand so he wouldn’t miss a single, precious text from the hottest specimen of man he had ever laid eyes on in real life.

John’s skin was sunkissed from playing rugby and running, his body fit and toned from the same. His hair shone darkly golden and his eyes were the color of lapis lazuli with tiger’s eye rings around the pupils and his smile was devastating and his voice was resonant and smooth like an oboe and Sherlock was so gone on him all ready that he’d had to wank twice just to keep from climbing the walls with his want.

_*Ping*_

Sherlock’s breath caught and he scrambled to switch to the text screen holding John’s messages.

_So, I can’t sleep because I’m thinking of you and how much I’d like to see you again and would you maybe like to meet up for coffee or something tomorrow? Or actually later today rather. Like, maybe, perhaps around ten at that café called Fuel across the street from the main entrance to St. Bart’s hospital? I have a lecture at 9 and could meet you there after._

Sherlock felt like he couldn’t get enough air. He quickly typed out an answer.

**Yes –SH**

_Oh wow, you’re still up too? Nice! What are you doing at this hour?_

Sherlock rolled his eyes and debated lying. No, bad idea. John seemed the honest sort who’d take objection to needless deception.

**I’m playing this insipid yet completely addictive monstrosity of a game. I blame you entirely and will be taking my pound of flesh in some as of yet undetermined yet diabolical way. –SH**

Sherlock waited on tenterhooks. Was that too much too soon? Oh, but he was bad at this. He could be so smooth for a case and yet when it really mattered he turned into a blithering idiot.

_Yes, right, totally my fault. You can have as much of my flesh as you want. Blame me. Please._

Sherlock could feel a flush creep up his chest and neck and into his cheeks. The game was ON.

**This has promise. Shall we play a game? –SH**

_What did you have in mind?_

**Trivia crack of course. Lose a turn, share a fantasy about the other. Whoever comes first buys coffee. –SH**

_Oh, God, yes. Hold on._

_*ping*_

@J.WatDoc would like to invite you to play Trivia Crack

Sherlock nearly sprained a finger accepting and then spun the wheel.

He managed four answers in a row, picking up his entertainment character through sheer luck and Mycroft’s weird Audrey Hepburn phase from a few years ago. He lost on a Sports question of course. What the hell did he know about golf except the clubs could be used to bludgeon a man to death?

But on to the main event. He’d start out gently. It wouldn’t do to scare John away after all.

**I liked the look of your jaw, especially the spot where it meets behind your ear. The skin looks so smooth, I want to run my tongue over it, drag my bottom lip there. I want to bite it, not too hard, just enough for a delicious little sting. I’d mark you up a bit, but just a little, just a small one. Our little secret. You’d arch your back and our chests would rub as your eyes rolled back and you moaned right in my ear. I bet you would be so wrecked. Especially when I dragged just the tips of my fingers over your clothed cock and pressed my thumb right into your slit just to feel you shudder and your precome dampen the material. Would you like that? –SH**

Sherlock palmed himself over his pajama bottoms, already excited and imagining the stunned mackerel look on John’s face as his cock filled with blood and stiffened against his boxers.

_Jesus Christ. Oh my God, you don’t pull your punches do you? I’m already hard. Are you?_

Sherlock grinned triumphantly and circled the head of his cock with his thumb, still over his trousers, just to feel the tease.

**Oh yes. But I believe it’s your turn. –SH**

Ten minutes later and seven correct answers and John tripped up on a history question. Sherlock waited breathlessly.

_Okay. I think you’re stupid-makingly hot, this is not a secret. I really like the way you wear that suit. You look so calm, cool and put together. I want to make you lose that cool. I want to muss you up and get you dirty and desperate. I’d start by running my fingers through your hair and kissing you until your mouth was all red and wet and panting. I’d drag my teeth down, down that neck of yours, over your adam’s apple and then lick up the sweat collecting in your suprasternal notch. I’d get the first three buttons on that tight shirt you were wearing today open and spread the collar wide so I could get to your nipples. I’d lick and circle them while I opened your belt and trousers and got my hand into your pants. Then I’d slide just my forefinger and thumb in a loose ring down your shaft, just feeling the warmth and velvet of your skin there as you got hard as steel and whimpered for more._

Sherlock got his right hand under his waistband and slid the ring of his forefinger and thumb down the length of himself, spreading the precome and making the glide smooth and easy already. Christ that felt good. He had a death grip on his phone in his left hand and his eyes avidly ate up the text appearing. He was probably going to get hard every time his text alert sounded from now on.

_I’d get the rest of your buttons open and your shirttails out. Yeah, and then id slid my tongue downn your stomac, dipping into your navel and tongue fucking it for a few seconds. Then id keep sliding down, get the fron t of your pants down until the elastic was just under your bals and id just swallow you whole right up to and past the opening to my throat until you were lodged so deep I choked on it and I’d just swallow and swallow until you came screaming mymname. And you’d be all rumpled and sweaty and debauched and id be so smug._

_Jesus Sherlock, I’d really like to do that for real someday soon. Would you let me? It’d be really good, I swear. Christ I’m wanking and so hard over here and moaning like a whore. This is theb est game ever. Your turn._

By this time Sherlock had pulled his pants and pajama trousers down under his bollocks, licked his palm and was tugging furiously on his dick. The typos were very telling. He could see john in his mind’s eye, his shirt rucked up, death grip on his phone and his other hand a blur over his hard, wet cock. It wouldn’t be long now, he was going to lose. He didn’t care.

He didn’t even bother looking at the little smiling icon telling him it was his turn.

**We’re in my bed, you’re spread out over my black silk sheets all tanned and strong and hard. We’re both naked and unbearably aroused after an hour of foreplay. I turn you on your back, push you down into the mattress and straddle your face backwards. Then I shove myself into your willing mouth at the same time I suck you down and we both moan around each other and start to suck. We can barely concentrate through the haze of pleasure as we both go faster and faster, our hips pistoning into each others’ throats. We’re both choking, tears running down our chins and not caring at all. As we come within seconds of each other, we both scream around the cocks in our mouths prolonging our orgasms and swallowing each others’ come. Then we collapse into the damp sheets and pass out. –SH**

Sherlock tossed down his phone and panted as his hand whipped up and down his cock and his other fingers pinched a nipple through his t-shirt. He came long and hard, wheezing like a steam train and curling into a shuddering crunch, stomach muscles standing out in sharp relief.

Then he picked up his phone in a shaking hand and typed out two words.

**You win –SH**

A few seconds passed as he stared at his ceiling, dopey and sleepy and tried to get his breathing under control. His phone chimed.

_We’re going to have to call it a draw. I’m going to pass out now. See you at ten._

The phone beeped again.

_-JW_

Sherlock laughed, tossed his phone on his bedside table, turned over and dived headlong into an exhausted sleep to dream of dark blue eyes and a blinding smile.

Hopefully the rematch would be more hands on.

**Author's Note:**

> It should be noted that I had never even heard of Trivia Crack before reading bobbirose's fic. I'm now Sherlock levels of addicted. I'm never going to get anything else done, ever.


End file.
